Chapter nine: His father's mistake

The words dropped between them like grenades.

Garrison went very still. Then he started laughing.

Deep, gut-wrenching laughter that filled the room like smoke. He doubled over, clutching his stomach, the bottle dangling from his fingers.

"Oh my...." He could barely breathe. "Oh my god. The universe....the Moon Goddess..." More laughter.

"She really does have the sickest sense of humor."

"It's not funny."

"It's hilarious." Garrison straightened, tears streaming down his face.

"My perfect son. My self-righteous, holier-than-thou son who's spent his entire adult life judging me for falling for a stripper...." He wiped his eyes. "And your fated mate is exactly the same."

"She's nothing like Lydia."

"Isn't she?" Garrison's smile turned cruel. "She takes her clothes off for money, doesn't she? Dances for strange men? Human, I'm guessing? No pack, no protection, no one to defend her?"

"Stop...."

"That's Lydia. That's exactly Lydia." Garrison stepped closer. "The only difference is I had a choice. I had Mirelle...perfect, beautiful Mirelle... and I still chose Lydia. But you?" He pointed the bottle at Kadence.

"You don't get to choose. The bond's already there. Already eating you alive. You're fate's puppet, and she's dancing you on strings."

"Get out."

"You'll go back to her." Garrison ignored him.

"Maybe not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. But you'll go back. Because the mate bond won't let you stay away."

"I said get out..."

"And when you do...when you bring that stripper into this house, when you try to make her your Luna... just remember." Garrison's voice dropped to a whisper.

"I warned you. I told you that you're about to make the same mistake I did. Only worse, because at least I could walk away from Lydia when I got bored. You'll be stuck with her forever."

Something inside Kadence detonated.

His hand drew back, fist clenched, arm cocking with every ounce of strength he possessed. His wolf surged forward, eyes blazing gold, violence singing in his blood.

Garrison didn't move. Didn't flinch. Just stood there with that ugly, knowing smile.

"Do it," he said softly. "Hit me. Prove you're different. Prove you're the better man."

Kadence's fist was six inches from his father's face.

Every muscle in his body screamed to complete the motion. To make contact. To make him hurt.

Hit him. Make him pay. Make him feel what Mom felt.

But another voice.... quieter, colder.... cut through the rage:

If you hit him, you become him.

And suddenly Kadence saw it. The trap. The test. The way Garrison wanted this, needed proof that his son was just as broken.

You already are like him, something whispered. Running from your mate. Judging her. Too scared to claim what's yours.

You ARE him.

"NO!"

Kadence's fist changed direction mid-swing and slammed into the wall beside his father's head.

The impact was catastrophic.

His hand went through the wall.... through drywall, through beams, through everything.... like it was paper. The sound was deafening. Dust exploded outward. A hole the size of a dinner plate appeared where his knuckles had connected.

Kadence pulled his hand back. Blood dripped from his knuckles onto the floor.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Counting the seconds of his failure.

Garrison hadn't moved. Hadn't even blinked.

"Feel better?" he asked mildly.

Kadence stared at the hole. At his bleeding hand. At his father's expectant face.

And he saw himself clearly for the first time:

This anger. This violence. This destruction.

His father's legacy, written in broken walls and broken people.

"Get out," Kadence said quietly.

"That's what I thought." Garrison brushed past him toward the door. "You can punch walls all you want, boy. But you can't punch your way out of being exactly what I made you."

He left.

The door hung open behind him, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Kadence stood alone in his room, staring at the hole he'd created. Blood dripped steadily onto the hardwood.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The mate bond pulled tight in his chest. Asha was out there somewhere, confused and hurting.

Because of him.

Just like his mother had been confused and hurting.

Because of Garrison.

The parallel was too perfect. Too cruel.

Kadence walked to the door. His hand left bloody prints on the handle.

He looked back one last time at the hole in the wall...... evidence of his loss of control, his father's victory, his own descent into everything he'd sworn he'd never become.

Then he left, pulling the door closed behind him with so much force the entire frame shook.